All That There Is
by jemisard
Summary: Because, when it comes down to it, there is nothing else to say.


Tidus stood at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide with wonder.

It was well past midnight. The rest of the group were fast asleep, and Tidus himself had been as well.

Then, he had heard singing. Low, almost impossible to hear, but the wind carried it straight to his ears, rousing him from sleep.

Like a man entranced, he had followed the quiet tones along the path, pausing at the great steps that led up to the temple of Killika, where the fayth of Ifrit lay in its statue.

The song had grown louder. Tidus had licked his lips, finding them suddenly dry. It was a voice from his dreams, when he was young he had heard those same deep notes, calling the hymn of the fayth to the heavens.

He had walked slowly, and found the stairs passing beneath his feet. The song had grown louder and stronger, echoing through his ears and making his soul hum.

He came to the top of the stairs, and that was where he still stood, captivated.

The area was lit by the light of the waning moon, but it was pale compared to the light of the pyre flies that crawled over the area. They quivered with the note, resonating the voice of the solitary singer.

He knew who it was even before his eyes lowered to the ground. There was only one person who would be up and wondering about at this time of night. Only one person who's voice would be deep enough to make those mournful notes.

He knelt before the statue of Braska, head lifted to stare up at the impassive stone face. A note wavered, and Tidus heard the barely concealed choking sob in that note.

The hymn trailed off into an oppressive silence that not ever the night life disturbed.

The singer's head fell forwards, hanging to the ground, and the pyre flies slowed, drawing back into the solid body. Slowly, the light faded away and the unnatural glow dimmed into nothingness again.

Tidus' footsteps sounded unnaturally loud on the stone, but it did not disturb his mentor, lost in his own thoughts. He hesitated some eight feet away, unwilling to be closer if he was going to startle the swordsman. "Auron?"

He did not move. He didn't even speak, not showing any surprise at the boy's appearance up here.

"I heard you singing. You used to sing that at home, when I was asleep. Were you trying to comfort yourself?"

"No." He still didn't look up. "I find no comfort in the Hymn anymore." He sat up, back to Tidus still. His bare hand moved to his face. "Did it comfort you?"

"Yes." He came closer, but still not close. "I didn't really connect that it was you though. Why do you sing it?"

"I was calling Sin."

Tidus feels his arms and legs go cold. "You..."

"I called to Sin, over and over again." HIs voice was empty. "I wanted it to come back and take me somewhere else. Not Spira, not Zanarkand, just somewhere else." He was silent for a moment. "It never did."

The blonde wanted to ask the obvious question of why, but he already knew, as much as he didn't want to. He said nothing, watching the long tail of dark hair shift in the barely felt breeze.

"Does that surprise you?"

"Not really." He blinked. "It hurts though."

"Hm." Auron lowered his head and shook it slightly. "I suppose it would." He straightened and stood with the aid of his sword, leaning on it as he moved.

"Auron, did you really want to die?"

"When?" There was a slight chuckle, dry and bitter. "When I entered Yunalesca's chamber? When I woke up in Zanarkand of old? On this pilgrimage? Death hasn't proved to be all I thought it was. Death is meant to be the last suffering before paradise. But... still I'm here. Still I walk Spira, though my body is long buried. I didn't so much want to die as just not live."

"Then why do it? Why not move on to the Farplane, why not let someone send you?" He had never heard Auron speak so candidly about himself. He wondered if the moonlight on the temple was sparking all these old feelings.

"Do you want to die?"

"No." He scuffed his toe. "But... I don't have a choice. Not if it's the only way to save Spira from this spiral."

"It is, isn't it?" Auron finally turned around. "That's the final irony, Tidus. It's all about ending the cycle. That's what it has always been about. And that's why things are how they are, for us."

Tidus let Auron brush past him as he walked down to the camp, staring at the imposing stone statue of Lord Braska. Then, half humming notes he didn't believe in, he followed afterwards.

Because, there really wasn't anything else to do about it.


End file.
